Mr. Bad Influence

Chapter 1 - Part 1

6:45 a.m. Her stuff wouldn't get here until seven, and that was fifteen minutes too long.

Kerri glanced at her reflection in the glass in front of her. Even through the reflection, she could see the dark rim under her eyes. She sighed and pressed the red button on the treadmill, one of the two treadmills available in the gym, then trotted along as the speed slowed.

She had been on the machine for merely eleven minutes, but she didn't have the energy. She would prefer to be in bed, snuggling against her silky soft 1000-thread-count sheets.

She stepped back onto the dark gray carpet and cast a disgusted glance at the flattened fibers, wondering if the carpet was the reason behind the musky smell of the place. Wrinkling her nose, Kerri scanned the relatively small and empty gym.

One guy stood in the limited space next to a row of weights, pumping a weight in his hand, while another was doing leg lifts on one of the ten machines available. Both guys were staring at their reflections in the mirror, watching themselves as their muscles bulged and relaxed.

This was the first time she'd set foot in this gym, the first time she had experienced such an exchange.

She'd been concerned when she received the instructions.

After all, the gym was a public place where anyone could recognize her. What if someone followed her into the locker room and caught her red-handed? What would she do then?

The alternate option wasn't viable either. She couldn't have that stuff delivered to her place. Her neighbors might see something. Someone might start gossiping. And before she knew it, she might be all over the news and magazine covers for the wrong reason.

She dragged her feet toward the locker room. She couldn't linger in the gym without working out. Those two guys would eventually stop pumping their muscles, and they might just notice Miss America's Sweetheart, Kerri Adams, loitering around.

She would just spend the next fifteen minutes in the steam room—if there was one.

But when she was about to pass the dull gray lockers with peeling paint and go in search of the steam room, she noticed that the number lock on her locker had been turned the other way. The lock's dial was now facing the locker instead of her.

She glanced over her shoulders and walked around the room to make sure no one else was there before hastening to locker number 23.

Kerri reached for the locker, and her fingers trembled as she adjusted the numbers on the small silver lock, turning them to line up 0023.

Both the locker and the code for the lock had been given in the instructions. She wasn't sure why it had to be this particular locker, but she didn't ask questions. People buying such stuff didn't ask questions.

She gave a tug, and the lock opened.

Kerri froze when she thought she heard someone else in the room. Her hands were on her black gym bag, one on either end of the zip, and she didn't dare to move or even breathe.

The room returned to silence, and she sighed when she realized the sound was from her dangling lock scraping along the metal locker. She would have laughed, but the desperation to make sure that she had received the stuff was overwhelming.

She unzipped her gym bag in one fast stroke, expecting to see the packets of white powder.

But there weren't any.

The money she had placed on top was missing, but nothing took its place.

Frowning at her clothes, she pulled out the bag and reached into it. There you are. Underneath her clothes were the small squarish plastic packets, and she was immediately disgusted with herself for having such familiarity with them.

She grabbed her sunglasses, then zipped the bag and left the gym, keeping her head low and trying to be as discreet as possible. She slowed her pace when she realized how fast she was walking. Relax. No one can see what's in the bag. But she felt as if everyone knew, as if the whole world's eyes were on her.

Thoughts of appearing on the front page news with the headlines Miss America's Sweetheart Arrested For Drug Possession After Her Three-Year Hiatus made her cringe.

Her parents would kill her, and how would she face Pastor Jay?

When nearing an elderly couple, Kerri looked down and away while her hand covered her face, pretending to adjust her sunglasses. She exhaled the breath she held only when she got into her rented car.

She tipped her chin toward her chest, allowing her dark brown hair to fall forward so she could hide her face behind the curtain of her hair. She scanned the immediate area and made sure there wasn't anyone with a camera or even a cell phone in her vicinity.

When she was satisfied that no paparazzi were hiding behind the trees or around the corners of buildings, she unzipped her bag and pulled out the plastic packets containing white powder.

She was so sick and tired of sneaking around, of hiding this secret from everyone she knew and loved.

But she couldn't stop.

Lord, please let this be the last time I do this. She buried the packets under the clothes in her bag, then threw the bag under the passenger seat before starting the car and pulling away from the curb.

She had to hurry. She had to get home, put on some makeup to appear well rested, then head out to church.

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